


Arm Candy

by loki_dokey



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Formalwear, M/M, Multi, Suits, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 10:30:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19083220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loki_dokey/pseuds/loki_dokey
Summary: There's a certain power to a good suit.





	Arm Candy

**Author's Note:**

> Holy jesus this is the smuttiest thing I've ever written in my goddamn life
> 
> Thank you SO much to @ARTboba for posting this fantastic piece of artwork of Timmy in a suit that got my smutty cogs whirring for this...very long oneshot. 
> 
> https://twitter.com/ARTboba/status/1134165437946650624 
> 
> I HOPE YOU ENJOY OMFG I MIGHT DIE
> 
> (PS I had no beta so pls go easy on me if there's any errors...I tried super hard to ensure there weren't!)

* * *

Tim had never been to any of Hyperion’s formal events before - not as _himself_ , anyway. Jack had never announced to the world that he’d had body doubles, despite the fact that pretty much everyone at Hyperion _knew_ by now, so when the invitation to attend one arrived in Tim’s mailbox he was very sure - at first - that it had been sent to the wrong address.

But no. When he opened it, there it was: ‘ _Timothy Lawrence’_ . His name embossed in swirled gold lettering onto the ivory paper. Fingertips trailing across the words, his lips quirked up into a small smile. Jack _wanted_ him there, at an event where he would be showing off Hyperion and all its wealth to the other weapon manufacturers of Pandora, no less. As Tim’s mind whirred over the implications of this, his smile dropped a little.

 

 _Ah_.

 

What made the most sense was that he was probably being requested to attend so that Jack could be all, “Hey, look at me, assholes! Look what _I’ve_ got!’ and then shove Tim into the limelight for all to see, showing off Jack’s ingenuity.

But Tim didn’t really, _really_ care _._ He’d much rather be out as _him_ than lurking in the shadows, as was the usual when he wasn’t being ‘Handsome Jack’. Plus, if Jack were there, he would get to drink fancy things, _enjoy himself_ and not be the centre of attention for once. He sighed and placed the invitation on his kitchen counter. He reminded himself once again that he’d never attended one of these things before.

 

What should he _wear?_

 

*

 

“Move aside, babe,” Jack barked as he barged past Tim an hour before the event was supposed to be taking place. Tim, dressed only in a t-shirt and his boxer shorts, stumbled out of his path, closing the door behind him by leaning back into it. Jack prowled into the depths of his apartment with a large bag flung over his shoulder. He was dressed in a gorgeous, form-fitting black ensemble, with a mottled tie and a pair of matching cufflinks. Tim was shifted out of his daydreams about the suit and the man in it when someone shouted at him.

“Where the fuck is your iron?! This goddamn suit got crinkled in the bag.”

Tim blinked and peered down the hallway, watching Jack disappear into the lounge, then into the kitchen and then back out into the hallway. The CEO turned to Tim and waved his arms out in exasperation. God, he looked stunning.

“Hel _lo_?” He clicked his fingers. “We haven’t got all day?!”

With that, Tim picked himself up, hurried down the hall towards his boss and pointed at the closet.

“There’s, uh, an ironing board and iron in there?”

Jack nodded, grabbed the items he needed and set up in the centre of the kitchen. Tim regarded the entire situation in awe, leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded across his chest. The CEO of Hyperion was in his house...plugging in an iron...ready to...

 

 _...._ ready to freaking _iron_?

 

His attention was shifted, however, when he watched Jack pull a beautiful, dark, plum-coloured suit from the bag he’d been carrying. His jaw dropped. Unable to help himself, he dashed forward into the kitchen and grabbed at one of the pant legs, feeling the soft material between his fingers.

“Is this...for me?” he asked hopefully, looking up at Jack with round eyes. The man on the other side of the ironing board raised an eyebrow and smirked, tugging the pants back and laying them down.

“Well duh. Sure is, kitten. Have to make sure that my boy is dressed up to the goddamn nines when he comes in on my arm.”

The pit of Tim’s stomach dropped out and his knees almost gave way. He reached out and found purchase by clutching onto Jack’s sleeve. “Pardon?” was all that he managed.

Jack chuckled and placed the iron down. He walked around to Tim and guided him back until he bumped ass-first into the fridge. Rough hands held his face and Jack’s thumbs swept across his lips.

“Don’t be a dumbass, Tim. What? You think I’d roll up to this event and just walk in without you? After all…” He gestured between them before locking eyes with his doppelganger. “...this?”

Tim's eyelids fluttered shut as Jack leant in and ran his tongue up the side of his neck. Goosebumps covered his entire body and he whimpered at the back of his throat.

"But...won't people think...me and you...is weird? I mean..." Regretfully, he pulled Jack's face up to his and looked him in the eyes with purpose. Jack's eyes narrowed. "Shit, like, come _on_ . We look _identical_. People will think-"

Suddenly, hands encircled his wrists and slammed them above his head. A small gasp escaped him and a smirk curled onto Jack's lips. He pressed their foreheads together and grinned wolfishly.

"People can think what the _fuck_ they want. I don't give a shit. But anyone gives me even an inkling that they judge me? Judge _us?"_ Their noses touched. Jack's voice dropped low. "They'll have my _fist_ to answer to, baby."

Tim's breath was catching in his throat, making it hard to use his lungs. He pushed back against Jack and closed his eyes.

"Kiss me," he begged, voice nothing but a hoarse whisper. Jack kept one hand around his wrists and let one slide down slowly, past his face and his chest and down to his hip where he squeezed, digging his thumb beneath the boxers and into the crease of Tim's thigh - the place he _knew_ drove Tim crazy. The younger man licked his lips and moaned. " _Please."_

Jack's lips ghosted over Tim's and the younger man stretched, trying to catch his mouth, but Jack pulled away and stepped back.

" _Jack,_ " Tim whined, hands dropping back to his sides.  He watched as his boss returned to the ironing board. "Jack." No reply. "Hey, _asshole_ , why would you do that?"

Jack moved the iron along a pant leg and clicked his tongue.

"If you behave yourself tonight, kitten, you'll get what you want. Oh boy." A huffed laugh followed a head shake. "Oh _boy_ , you'll get all you want and _more_."

Tim didn't have a clue what that meant, only that it sounded like something that would end up with him being treated _very_ well, so he didn't argue and set about preening himself. Hesitantly (because what the _hell_ was this domesticity happening?? Could he really just leave Jack in his kitchen...ironing?) he moved across the hall to the bathroom and fished out his best hair products and cologne.

 

"I like it when you do that thing with your hair! You should do that," Jack called from the kitchen a few minutes later, the hiss of the iron flickering between his words.

Timothy chuckled as he looked at himself in the mirror and applied some moisturiser.

"That's real specific, Jack."

A deep sigh. "Oh, you _know_ what I mean!" A beat of silence. "Goddamnit." All of a sudden, Jack crowded into the bathroom and Tim jumped, moisturiser still lathered white on his skin. Jack looked about before snatching up his hair wax, unscrewing it and sniffing. He recoiled a little in surprise. "Wow. _Wow._ You do _not_ use _this_ for work."

" _No_ , I don't. Because it's very nice and for _,_ " Tim snatched it back, _"special_ occasions."

"Oh ho, it's _definitely_ a special occasion tonight, Timmy," Jack replied, taking the wax back again. He stuck in his fingers, then placed the tub back down and rubbed the wax between his hands. "Probably the most special occasion of your damn life."

Tim snorted as Jack began stroking his hands through his hair, styling it. "What? You gonna ask me to _marry_ you or something?"

Jack froze for a millisecond, eyes wide, but then threw his head back and laughed loudly.

"Oh shut _up_ , you little shit." Both men chortled as Jack continued applying the product. Eventually, he stood back and flicked on the tap to wash his hands. Meanwhile, Tim took a look in the mirror. He looked... _hot_.

"See?" Jack gestured at the Tim in the mirror. "The _thing._ "

“Huh,” was Tim’s only response. He fixed a small section at the side before standing back and grinning at himself.

 

With that suit and _this_ hair?

 

God, he’d be downright _delicious._

 

*

 

“Fucking hell, are you not done yet?! We’ve got ten minutes to be there!”

Tim quickly emerged from the bedroom, desperate to put an end to Jack’s very consistent nagging. Lip between his teeth, he tugged at his shirt to reveal the sleeves and checked his tie. The suit hugged his figure well and he assumed he looked good, but when he saw the expression on Jack’s face as he glanced up from his outfit-fixing, he _knew_ he looked damn _fine._

“Holy shit _.”_ Jack stood from the couch. “Holy _shit.”_ He stalked across the room, grabbed Tim by the lapels and pulled him in, kissing him furiously. Tim obliged happily until Jack grumbled and pushed him back a little. “I can’t...if I keep going I’ll…” He cast his eyes to the ground and patted Tim’s chest. “All that ironing would have been for nothing.” He slowly dragged his gaze up once again. “And you look too freakin’ hot to dishevel right now. However much that hurts me to say.”

Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, Tim swallowed hard. He had come to notice that his pants were _tight._ And they were tighter now because Jack...Well, he just hoped the result of Jack’s kiss died down before they reached the party. He very swiftly tried to change the topic.

“You said we had ten minutes to be there?” He checked his watch. “It takes at least five to get to the elevator.”

“Well, fuck.”

 

*

 

Jack had gifted Tim a pair of silver Hyperion cufflinks and a small Hyperion pin for his lapel just before they’d left the apartment. He felt giddy with excitement as he slipped each item on; the perfect finishing touches to his new outfit. He was really going _with_ \- not as - Jack to a _real_ Hyperion event and getting to be the _real_ Timothy Lawrence _._ He was about three glasses of champagne away from losing his mind. So he estimated that, within at most forty-five minutes of his arrival, his mind would have been lost.

In the elevator, Jack’s eyes burned into him from across the small space. He couldn’t stop raking his eyes up and down Tim’s body, drinking in every crease and contour that the new suit offered.

“If I didn’t have to save face for these corporate assholes,” he growled, knuckles white around the bar behind him, “I’d slam the emergency stop and fuck you right now, right here on this _fugly_ carpet.”

Tim gulped, looking down at the floor. It _was_ fugly. Thoughts of Jack tugging him down onto it filtered into his head. He smiled and lifted his eyes back to Jack, head still tilted towards the carpet.

“How would you do it?” he asked, voice low. Jack’s eyebrows shot up - he’d caught him off guard. _That_ was the way Tim liked Jack most.

“Wh-what? How would I...are you asking how I’d _fuck_ you? In this elevator?”

“Mmm,” Tim replied, moving across the space and placing his hands on the wall either side of Jack. He placed their faces inches apart. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m asking.”

Jack’s eyes were wide and Tim noticed the way his Adam’s apple bobbed before he spoke.

“Jesus, Timmy, what’s gotten into you? Not that I don’t...not that I don’t _like_ it. Fuck. It’s hot as shit, actually.”

Tim stepped back, glancing down whilst running his fingers along his own lapels. He shrugged.

“Maybe it’s the power of a good suit."

 

It was definitely the power of a good suit.

 

The two men both opened their mouths to speak but the doors to the elevator slid open. Tim went to spring to the other side but Jack grabbed his hand and pulled him close, wrapping his arm around his back. A few of Jack’s executives stood there, gawping at Jack who grunted and gestured with his head for them to enter. The group glanced between one another before stepping inside, the elevator doors closing silently behind them. Tim was very aware that his cheeks were bright pink and that Jack’s arm was growing tighter around him with every side-eye from those who had joined them. This was the first time _anyone_ had seen the two of them together and it was _weird._ He also knew that if these idiots said _anything_ right now, Jack would shoot them all out of an airlock. At least the knowledge of that let him breathe a little easier.

“You chucklefucks got somethin’ to say?” Jack growled suddenly, making everyone - even Tim - jump. The crowd of employees swiftly shook their heads and trained their eyes on the closed doors. Tim, however, just smiled.

When the elevator arrived at the event floor, the execs scurried out and left Tim and Jack arranging themselves, ready for Handsome Jack’s arrival to his huge party. Tim straightened Jack’s tie and ensured that a few loose strands of hair were in place. Jack twisted the Hyperion pin on Tim’s blazer to an upright position before sliding his arm around his waist once again.

“Let’s do this, Timothy Lawrence,” he whispered into Tim’s ear. With Tim’s cheeks red once again, and heart thumping from the reminder that he was _him_ , Jack led them to the large set of ornate double doors, behind which music was already pumping.

“You ready?” Jack asked. He pulled Tim, who nodded, closer. Jack finger gunned the stewards and the doors opened, the blast of the music hitting them full-force. Jack immediately took the mic offered to him by the steward inside and tapped it with his thumb.

"Alright you bunch of assholes,” he said with a laugh, addressing the crowd. Every single person in the packed-out room looked to him. Looked to Tim. Looked to _them._ “Let’s get this party started!”

 

*

 

Jack was off somewhere else - probably arguing with Torgue again - by the time Tim was three champagnes in and deciding that yes, he had in fact lost his mind. He had been introduced to countless people as _Timothy Lawrence_ (Timothy Lawrence!!) and, for what felt like the first time in forever, he could finally _relax_. This wasn’t hard with three champagnes in his system. He leant against a table near the bottom of the grand staircase, watching the partygoers contentedly. He was happy here just watching, knowing that people knew he wasn’t Jack and letting him get on with his evening. It brought more joy to his heart than he could put into words. His interest was piqued, however, when he noticed a handful of people looking closely at the top of the stairs and pointing. Tim followed their hands and gazes, turning around to see what they were staring at. He caught his breath when he finally saw.

 

The _Atlas_ CEO had decided to join the party.

 

Tim was sure Jack hadn't been inviting him - they’d been mortal enemies since Atlas' sudden and esteemed rise to power a year ago. They had trumped Hyperion in a fair few fields and, from what Tim had gathered during his time as a body double, the two men completely loathed one another. Tim watched the tall man survey the room, ECHO eye burning golden and face devoid of any visible emotion. He slowly unbuttoned the jacket he was wearing and let it fall from his shoulders into the hands of the steward behind him.

 

Tim _gasped._ He was sure he heard others gasp too. People had stopped talking to watch as Atlas descended the stairs.

 

He was dressed in a dark grey, finely-pinstriped shirt and even darker grey suit pants that perfectly followed his figure. But it was the statement piece he wore that had Tim’s heart thumping in his throat. A waistcoat - a contrasting slate-grey and light-grey boned corset with eyelets down the spine. With it, the man was catching the eye of every person in the room. It was v-necked and low cut, which had allowed him to pop his shirt’s collar low in an obvious attempt to display his chest tattoos and _boy_ was it working. Tim's gaze trailed down his chest with each step the man took, cybernetic hand on the railing. His entrance was on the cusp of being damn _regal_ and the man clearly knew it was from the smirk that was curling its way onto his lips. Whilst the music still pounded, the guests had fallen to silence. Atlas made it to the bottom of the steps and looked around once more, hand still on the rail. His eyes slid past Tim, but swiftly slid right back. He scanned him from the shoes up, ECHO eye glowing once again. When their eyes met, Tim could have kicked himself for the blush that dappled his cheeks and nose. He could feel it travelling up to his ears too. A strange expression crossed the CEO’s features and it had a knot tying itself up in Tim’s stomach.

He and the CEO had met once before - briefly - when Tim had been standing in for Jack down on Pandora. They hadn’t spoken, not once, but _god_ had the Atlas man _stared_ at him, narrowed eyes studying him constantly. It had been fucking strange and had made him feel extremely uncomfortable and simultaneously extremely aroused because the man had no business being a beautiful as he was. Tim had spoken to Jack about it all later. “Apparently” the Atlas CEO had “probably just been in pain from that stick being shoved so far up his ass.” That hadn’t really answered any of Tim’s questions. And he had _so_ many questions about the mysterious man who ran the Atlas corporation. Like, for example, what gave him that right to be so incredibly compelling and damn hot. When he’d walked in, both on Pandora and to this Hyperion party, it was like a force of nature had swept into the room. In fact, Atlas’ presence held the room’s attention like Jack’s did, but for very different reasons. Jack was brash and loud, ready to kill you if you spoke out of turn or breathed in the wrong direction. His energy seeped into everything around him and he brought a room to life. Atlas, however, was an enigma. People were drawn to his quiet presence because they wanted to know _more_ . The way he carried himself was demure and unapologetic and it made people _need_ to know.

Tim shook himself out of his thoughts, only to see that Atlas was now nowhere to be seen. He was instantly scared for Jack; this asshole CEO had turned up unannounced and disappeared into the crowd without a trace. Despite the fact that all guests were scanned and unarmed on arrival, warning sirens whirred in Tim’s skull as he righted himself and searched the swarms of guests for that one character who would stick out like a sore thumb. He kept scouring until he saw him, way off at the back, laughing and punching Torgue in the arm hard but light enough to avoid all-out war. His eyes grew wide as he saw Atlas approach the men but he breathed a sigh of relief when it became apparent that Jack had known he was coming all along. It didn’t quite sit right with Tim when they shook hands, as did Torgue and Atlas, but when Jack escorted the men over to the bar he decided that he didn’t have to be too concerned. It was weird as hell but as long as no one was killing anyone, Tim was happy. Smiling drunkely, he drained the rest of his drink. Alcohol-fuelled confidence had him placing his champagne flute down and heading through the crowd to grab a tall, dark and Handsome drink of his own.

 

*

 

When he actually _got_ to the other side of the room, his alcohol-fuelled confidence had most certainly run dry. There they were - the leaders of some of the most powerful companies in the galaxy - Torgue, Maliwan, Atlas and Hyperion. Tediore was propped up in a chair a few tables away talking with a group of giggling women, but the other four were all shooting back shots of Prometheus Pure vodka _._ Tim stopped at a nearby table, out of sight, and rolled his eyes. Buying a bottle of Prometheus would probably halve his paycheck and here they were downing it like it was a cheap bottle of Elpis’ Crack.

“Crazy, isn’t it?” came a voice to his right. Meg, Jack’s PA and Tim’s friend, had appeared with a glass of white wine in her hand and a look of admiration on her face. She was staring past him at the weapon manufacturers.

“What’s crazy?” he asked, watching with her.

“That,” she replied, gesturing with her glass. “You’d think they’d all be at each other’s throats but nope.” Her voice slurred. “Here they all are! God knows if we’ll make it through the night without anyone killing anyone. But that’s why I’m on my sixth one of theeese.” She waggled her wine at him and they both laughed, Tim noting that he should probably get another drink soon for the same reason. He told her he would be right back and sidled to the end of the bar, away from Jack and his crew of powerful CEOs, to flag down the barkeep. He ordered and waited, staring down at his hands - Jack’s hands - before him. They were younger, less calloused and scarred, but they were Jack’s hands. Sometimes it all still got to him. How far he’d come, who he was. What he had done to get to _where_ he was and _who_ he was.

“Hey baby,” came a voice, like _his_ voice, drifting into his thoughts. He looked up, noticed his drink had arrived and then noticed the hand that rested beside his on the bar. It was almost identical to the ones he’d just been looking at. He leant back, into Jack’s warmth, and took a sip from his glass.

“Hey yourself.”

Jack’s mouth was at his ear then. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Mmm.” Tim closed his eyes.. When the warmth at his back disappeared, he looked around and found Jack waiting for him with an outstretched hand. Tim picked up his drink and took the hand to be lead into a darker, empty room off to the side of the main event. He almost choked on his sip when he realised who Jack was guiding him towards.

“Mr. Atlas, sir?!” he stammered to the man lounging on a couch by the back wall. The CEO smirked and rose to his feet, placing his hands behind his back. He moved slowly around Tim, looking him up and down, almost like he was doing an examination.

“Wow, he really _does_ look exactly like you,” he mused, stopping directly in front of Tim and cocking his head to the side. “Prettier, though, maybe.” Jack grunted. Atlas’ attention turned to the Hyperion man. “Well, _you_ were the one who told me that, so you can’t get pissed off with me for bringing it up. I only saw him with the mask on last time.” He looked back at Tim. “I mean, come on - he has _freckles._ ”

Everything happening was bizarre and Tim had no clue what to do or think. They were acting...amicable? This had never happened. In fact, he hadn’t known that these two could even look at each other without wanting to vomit or pull out a knife. He was missing something vital here and it made him feel stupid.

“No, you’re right,” Jack agreed, stepping beside Atlas - their shoulders brushing - and matching his posture. They both stood there, eyeing Tim with what _looked_ like goddamn hunger. Why was he starting to feel like he was a piece of meat? It was extremely intimidating but there was a glimmer in Jack’s eye that added a dash of heat to Tim’s heart palpitations.

“He _is_ prettier. And it was lucky I told you he wasn’t actually me last time because...y’know, that woulda scared the living shit outta him. I mean, look at him now. Kid hasn’t got a _clue._ ”

“That’s because we’ve been so discrete, idiot.” Atlas flashed Jack a glare. “Not something you’re  being very good at right now.”

Tim hadn’t expected the Atlas CEO to be like this. Not at all. His coldness...his mysterious nature...all seemed to have been a facade. Finally, he shook himself.

“Uh... _hello_? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I can hear literally everything you’re both saying.”

Grins dropping, Jack and the Atlas CEO blinked. They looked at each other and then back at Tim.

“Oh my god, babe, I’m so sorry.” Jack bit back a growing smile. “This is...this is Rhys. CEO of Atlas.”

“ _Duh_ ,” Tim hissed, waving his glass. “I know _that_ . And apparently _he_ knows who _I_ am.” He glared at Jack. “And has done? For a while? Wanna explain?”

Jack pulled a face and shrugged slowly. “I don’t know what to tell ya, kitten. There’s a lot to say-” All of a sudden, there was a cybernetic hand around Tim’s tie and a human hand against his chest. He was swiftly pressed up against a wall where no one could see, not even from the door. A golden eye glowed into life, trained on his mouth.

“Well, Jack, thankfully _I_ can think of _just_ the way to say it.”

 

*

 

Tim hadn’t known there was a back exit to the Hyperion function room but, apparently, Jack and Rhys had. They pulled him out into a cold, empty service hallway and slammed the door shut behind them. Tim stood there against the opposite wall, wide eyes watching the two CEOs who were breathing heavy against the large black door.

“I...think I need an explanation,” Tim voiced, edging his way down the hall. Jack and Rhys advanced, smirking at him. A familiar hand curled behind his neck whilst another held his hip, thumb pressing in. Tim whimpered.

“See, Timmy, I’ve been thinkin’,” Jack began, pushing in harder and pulling his body closer. “I like to fuck you. And I like to fuck _Atlas_. So I proposed an idea that Atlas here seemed to like the sound of.”

Tim’s eyes popped. He looked between the two men and then back at Jack before shoving him away.

“Oh? And you just _assumed_ I’d be down for that, you fucking _asshole_ , you just _assumed_ \- wait.” Jack raised an eyebrow.  “...Did you just say that you two...that you’ve…that you’re...?”

The two men before him both stood with folded arms, obviously having been waiting for Tim to come to the realisation he’d just come to.

 

Jack? And Atlas? Jack and Atlas had been?

 

Now, it wasn’t news to Tim that he wasn’t the only one who Jack was sleeping with. In fact, he’d been happy for Jack to get his kicks wherever he needed it. It kept Jack placated and therefore it kept Tim content. Less crap for him to deal with. But the CEO of _Atlas_?! His jaw swung open.

 

“When the _fuck_ did _that_ happen?”

Jack shrugged. “Dunno.” He looked at Rhys who shrugged back. “A little while after we first met? I guess? I mean, he’s hot as hell.” Jack gestured at Atlas. “I couldn’t _not_ bang him.”

Tim slid his eyes over to Atlas -- _Rhys_ \-- who looked like he might just devour both Tim and Jack then and there. His chest was rising and falling and his lip was tucked between his teeth.  Slowly, but oh _so_ sensually, he slipped past Jack and placed his hands on Tim’s shoulders and he didn’t break eye contact _once_.

“I think,” Rhys murmured, running a finger down Tim’s tie, “that we should take this somewhere more comfortable.”

“Y...You do?” Tim swallowed hard. “And what exactly is it that we’re, uh, taking….there? To this more comfortable place?”

“Jack’s told me everything I need to know about you, sweetheart.” Rhys’ hands had made their way down past his waist and his thumbs rubbed at Tim’s hip bones. Tim buckled and whined at the back of his throat, simultaneously hating and loving what was happening. Rhys leant in close, brushing Tim’s ear with his lips. “I want to take you up to Jack’s pretty penthouse and show you _exactly_ what he’s taught me.”

Knees buckling beneath him, words failing him, Tim could only swallow once more, suck in a short breath and allow himself to be led by the hand and by the ass to Jack’s shuttle which was conveniently waiting for them through the doors at the end of the hall.

As soon as the shuttle doors hissed to a close, Jack gripped at Tim’s ass even harder and span him around. Rhys crowded behind Tim, pressing himself flush against his back, and went straight for his neck with his teeth which drew a gasp out of the youngest man. He nipped at the sensitive skin before licking up the length of his neck, right up to the earlobe.

“Is this the ‘somewhere more comfortable’ then?” he joked before he was promptly shut up by Jack’s mouth on his. He stumbled back, bumping Rhys against the shuttle wall, so was firmly pressed between the two men when Jack stuck his tongue down his throat, hot and wanting. Tim moaned into the kiss and moaned a little more when he felt Rhys’ dick rubbing against his ass cheek. One of his hands flew back and clutched onto Rhys’ thigh whilst the other darted up and cupped Jack’s face as their mouths moved against one another. They must have looked a picture, had anyone had the pleasure of observing them.

 

The shuttle made it at Jack’s penthouse in under three minutes. Within that time, Jack had managed to loosen Tim’s tie and undo four buttons on his shirt. Rhys had slithered his hands around his waist and unhooked his belt. He’d been in the process of sliding it out of the loops when the shuttle slowed to a stop and beeped twice to indicate their arrival. Jack grinned against Tim’s lips, breaking the kiss to breathe. He opened his eyes and wordlessly took Tim by the elbow, guiding him away from Rhy’s crotch and into his apartment. With a subtle yank, he’s pulled through the doors, spun around and shoved onto the couch. He fumbled, wondering if this is where he’s supposed to stay, but got his answer when the two CEOs approached him like predators stalking through the long grass. They were staring right at him, expressions hungry and eyes burning. Tim was pretty sure that if they didn’t do something else soon, he was going to catch on fire. Or maybe disintegrate entirely. Jack took a step towards him and Tim couldn’t _breathe_ from the anticipation, but Atlas abruptly threw out his cybernetic arm and stopped Jack mid-step. The Hyperion man turned in surprise to have Rhys take his face in his hands and kiss him long, slow and deep. Eyes blowing as wide as Elpis itself, Tim felt tingles shudder through his whole body from the tips of his fingertips and toes all the way into his stomach, pooling into an intense heat there that had him sliding off his loose belt and jamming down his zipper.

This was _insane._ His brain hadn’t quite caught up with what was really happening but he wasn’t complaining. He was fairly sure that this was what Jack had meant when he’d said that tonight was going to be a special occasion. Well, it was safe to say -- with Jack and Rhys now fighting one another for dominance in their kiss before him -- that this was most certainly up there with one of the most special occasions of Tim’s entire life. The two men in front of him were quite literally devouring one another and, when Rhys slid off Jack’s blazer and started on his shirt buttons, Tim’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he palmed his dick through his boxers, biting down on his lip hard. _God_ . Had he ever expected to fuck Handsome Jack after taking the job as his body double? No. No way. Had he ever imagined he’d be complicit in the down and dirty behaviour of two of the powerful men in the galaxy? Absolutely not. But here he sat, thumbs gradually dragging down his underwear so that he could access his throbbing erection caused by said down and dirty behaviour. He watched with great pleasure as Rhys finished undoing Jack’s shirt and took a beat, kissed him again, and then yanked it down his arms, dropping to his knees as he did so. Their _faces_ , god - with their mouths falling open with all-consuming lust - had Tim cursing under his breath. Finally feeling brave enough to pull out his cock, he rubbed it slowly as he enjoyed the show. However, Rhys frowned and shifted, beginning to look uncomfortable. He mouthed at Jack’s own prominent bulge a few times before turning and pressing his head against Jack’s thigh and placing his hands on Jack’s hips.

“This goddamn corset,” he hissed, squeezing his eyes closed. Tim swallowed and tucked himself away, standing and moving over to the two men. Rhys watched him as he went. Tim dropped down behind him and worked at the eyelets silently as Rhys stilled but then relaxed, leaning back into him.

“This goddamn corset almost had me coming in my pants when I first saw you tonight,” Tim murmured, releasing the tightness of the waistcoat little by little. Rhys turned his head and smirked up at him, opening his eyes.

“And that won’t be the first time I make you feel like that, Timothy,” he purred, bringing his hand up to run his fingertips down Tim’s cheek. “I can promise you that.” A more wicked smirk grew on his lips. “But it won't be _almost_ any more.”

Tim melted into a puddle then and there but a cough from above had both men glancing up, shaken out of their moment. Jack had his hands on his hips and looked at them and then back down at himself, a sliver of his underwear visible through his unzipped suit pants. He gestured at it and at the small wet patch on the material.

“So, like, uh, how long do I have to wait to actually get my dick sucked?” He met their eyes and raised a brow. “Because you’re both on your knees in front of me and you’re _both_ using your mouths for fuckin’ talking rather than,” Jack clicked his tongue, “ _sucking_.”

Tim rolled his eyes and chuckled and he felt Rhys do the same, small laughs escaping him as he continued resting back against Tim’s chest. It was intimate and bizarre, but not at all unwelcome. Jack continued to scowl down at them and Tim offered a glare back, which in turn made Jack pull a face. Deciding that he wasn’t going to deal with Jack being a piece of shit, Tim kept his eyes locked with Jack’s whilst gradually leaning forward and lightly ghosting his lips over Rhys’ neck. Atlas shivered at the unexpected contact and froze for a brief second but then let his head roll to the side so that Tim could get better access. Tim’s hands travelled up the CEO’s arms and he allowed one to tangle in his hair, using his grasp to reveal more of his neck, and allowed the other to trace down Rhys’ sternum, barely touching the skin. His eyelids fluttered closed as the action had Rhys’ breathing pick up in pace and he could barely stay still, moving in tandem with Tim’s ministrations. Tim eventually dared to open an eye and noted that Jack was watching them through heavy-lidded eyes, stroking his weeping length which he had since pulled free.

Tim went back to focusing on Rhys -- the fucking _ATLAS CEO_ \-- who was languid in his arms. The doppelganger began undoing the fastens at the front of his waistcoat and, with each _pop_ of release, Rhys _moaned_ a little at the back of his throat. He had the Atlas goddamn CEO moaning in his lap and he’d never felt more powerful. Woozy with a bout of confidence, he settled his mouth onto the pretty white neck before him and kissed it, rolling his tongue in circles before clamping down and sucking a dark, deliberate bruise to the surface. Rhys whined but didn’t stop him, only throwing his arm back and wrapping his hand behind Tim’s neck to keep him locked into place. Tim didn’t hold back then. He drew out one more purpling mark and then brought up the hand that had been exploring Rhys' chest to tilt his head back and kiss him properly. There was a movement and Tim glanced, seeing Jack now on his knees between Rhys’ widespread legs and placing both hands on Rhys’ hips to steady himself. He then swiftly undid all of Rhys’ shirt buttons and exposed his tattooed chest, making Tim’s eyelids flutter shut; he refocused on kissing the man beneath him.

 

They remained that way for a short while until Rhys sobbed loudly and breathlessly into his mouth. The kiss stopped suddenly as Rhys sat bolt upright and Tim sat back, catching his breath at the sight of Jack going to freaking town on Rhys’ dick. The Atlas CEO let his head fall back onto Tim’s chest and moaned so pornographically that Tim was having a hard time keeping a level head. He’d honestly thought that he’d be the one caught up in the middle of all of this but was thoroughly enjoying seeing Atlas quite literally come to pieces in front of his very eyes. He leant down and caught his lips again, enjoying the whimpers and moans that travelled past Rhys’ tongue and into his mouth. Jack eventually let go of Rhys with an audible _pop_.

“Timmy’s too dressed for this shit,” he grumbled, patting Rhys on the thigh. Rhys sucked in a breath.

“You’re _seriously_ going to leave me…” He swallowed. “Like _this_?” With that, he pointed to the still solid cock between his legs. Jack, however, was ignoring him and almost staring directly into Tim’s very soul.

“Blazer.” He clicked his fingers. “I want it gone.” His hand grasped Rhys’ dick, making the Atlas man gasp, as he watched Tim undress. Tim then made his way down his shirt, undoing the rest of the buttons and finally shuffled out of both, leaving him topless. “Now everything else.”

Tim gulped and gestured at Rhys, who was laying on him again and writhing. Jack grinned.

“Rhysie, baby, sit up for me.”

Rhys did as he was told and Tim scrambled to his feet, yanking off his pants, shoes and socks. He now stood there in only his black, Hyperion-issue boxers with Handsome Jack’s eyes gliding over every contour of his body.

"God, I'm hot," Jack chuckled, the same as he did every _single_ time he got Tim undressed in front of him. After looking to the ceiling and sighing, Tim stretched out his muscles and refocused on the scene unfolding at his feet. Jack was pumping Rhys vigorously now and the Atlas CEO was chanting Jack's name over and over like a mantra between his moans and curses. _He_ was still dressed besides the unbuttoned shirt and unzipped pants. Jack was still in his suit trousers and socks. With his hands finding his hips, Tim decided they all needed to be completely naked already and more drunk than they were. Silently, as Jack went back to putting Rhys' dick in his mouth, Tim made his way to Jack's alcohol cabinet and took a bottle of Prometheus Pure with a grin. If they were gonna drink, it had to be something to CEO standards, of course.

As he beelined for the glassware, a raucous, prolonged moan of Jack's name echoed through the apartment, indicating to Tim that Rhys had finally blown his load. He smirked to himself at the thought of what Rhys must look like at that moment. Some mysterious enigma _he_ was. He noted to himself that all CEOs ever did was act. It was all a show. There was nothing authentic about a person in power because if you stripped it away and had them before you at their most human, that's all they were: damn human. Grabbing three shot glasses, he turned - with a smile slapped on his face like he'd just figured out the meaning of fucking life - to be confronted by a widely-grinning Jack. He crowded him up against the island in the middle of the kitchen and Tim hissed when his back hit it a little too hard.

"Whatcha got there, cupcake?" Jack asked, wiping his mouth with his thumb and eyeing the shot glasses and the bottle Tim was holding. He took the vodka and peered at it before taking a shot glass and pouring one out. "Rhys will probs need at least two of these to be able to stand again," he remarked, waggling his eyebrows and knocking it back. He poured another. "He'll spring back quick though." Their eyes met. "Don't think we've forgotten about you, babe." He downed the shot and passed the bottle back to Tim, waving his shot glass in the air before placing it on the counter. He swallowed.

"Go help Atlas. I'm gonna find some music." He splayed his hands and looked up to the heavens. "I need to score a soundtrack to this fantastic, _historic_ threesome."

And with that, Jack kissed him quick and disappeared to the other side of the apartment leaving Tim alone in the kitchen, not quite knowing what to think. Hazy-headed, he padded through to the living room where he found Rhys laying on the couch, chest rising and falling, the back of his cybernetic hand resting on his glistening forehead. His clothes were clean off now, aside from his navy underwear, and Tim just stood by the couch drinking him in. He had blue tattoos - almost akin to a siren's - snaking down his arm and across one side of his chest. And his legs? _God_ , those legs went on for _days._ Rhys cracked open a glowing, golden eye.

"That's vodka," he muttered. His flesh hand made grabbing motions at the bottle. "I need that vodka."

Tim obliged, settling himself on the edge of the couch next to Rhys and unscrewing the cap. He was about to tilt it to pour it in a glass but Rhys snatched the bottle, took a swig and handed it back. He sucked it down, teeth bared from the heat of it.

"Man, that's good shit," he breathed eventually, once he'd finally managed to swallow. His eyes met Tim's. They simply observed one another for a while but Tim didn't feel uncomfortable, which was nice. And frightening. Because. This was _Atlas_ , right? The top of the big leagues. The king of Pandora (besides Jack). Tim should be cowering under his glare, not wistfully gazing into his deep brown and golden eyes.

"I'm nothing like you thought I'd be, right?" Rhys said eventually, drawing Tim from his thoughts.

"No. Not at all, really."

Rhys closed his eyes and sighed. "Being a CEO is _tiring_. Not just the work and the meetings and the responsibilities but the _act_. The acting is what kills me. As you can see, I'm...not…" He opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling above. "I'm not _Atlas._ Not _really_." He looked at Tim with round eyes. "I'm just Rhys."

Tim settled back against Rhys' upturned leg. "Well, "Just Rhys". If it makes you feel any better, "Just Jack" ironed my pants earlier." Tim shook his head. "It was bizarre. I didn't even know he could wipe his own _ass_."

They both just stared at one another for a moment before buckling down with laughter. Rhys wiped his eyes and hummed, a small chortle escaping him before he composed himself. He sat up and crossed his legs on the couch, beckoning at Tim to do the same.

 

Seconds later, they sat across from one another, knees touching. Rhys lifted his flesh hand and allowed it to run through Tim's hair. Tim leant into the touch.

"You kiss better than him, you know," Rhys said nonchalantly, watching the movement of his own hand. "You're far more careful. More _sweet_."

"Is that what you like?" Tim asked, pressing a kiss to Rhys' hand as it swept past his lips. "Sweet?"

At this, Rhys laughed again and brought his hand back to his lap.

"Tim, as you've well seen, I like all manner of things. Sometimes sweet. Sometimes not. Sometimes I like it downright obscene. But what I _do_ know is that, sweet or obscene, if it's with you _and_ Jack then it's _exactly_ what I like."

"But you don't even know me-" A finger on his lips.

"Oh Tim. Oh, _Tim_ . The moment I saw you on Pandora, I knew I just had to keep tabs on you." Rhys opened the vodka and took another drink. He coughed as he spoke. "Jack and I message about you all the time.” He took a breath. “He likes you a lot. And through that I guess I've learnt to like you too. Well, the _idea_ of you. Because as you said, I don't even know you." Rhys tossed the closed bottle onto the couch beside him and took Tim's face in his hands. The cybernetic had was cool and hard but his human hand was warm. Soft. "But I'd like to get to know you. If you'll let me."

Their mouths were millimetres apart now. Tim nodded as he shut his eyes and kissed him, closed-mouthed and perfect. Rhys hummed into the kiss, dragging his hands back and burying them in Tim's hair, tugging him closer. Tim pushed Rhys back down onto the couch, leaning over him and changing the angle of his head so that he could kiss him more deeply, tongue sliding between his lips.

 

“Well, ain’t that a pretty sight,” came Jack’s voice from the doorway. The two of them glanced to the side to see Jack leaning there, arms folded and watching them with a smile on his face and a bulge in his pants. He flicked up a disk that he’d been holding. He looked at it and then back at the men on the couch. “To set the tone.”

“God, is that a CD?” Rhys snorted, propping himself up on his elbows. “Or am I just that drunk?”

“Yes, it’s a CD,” Jack replied, shrugging and frowning. “I like vintage.”

Then, without another word, he crossed the room to the sound system in the corner and slid it in.  Tim blinked. He didn’t even know what a CD _was_. However, low, seductive music filled the room - incredibly different from the usual crap that Jack listened to. There was a beat to it, deep and heavy, and god did it make Tim’s dick twitch. He was such a slut for a good, heavy beat.

“ _You_ seem to like the music,” Rhys noted with a smirk, glancing down between them and then back up to Tim’s face. A heat dashed across his face and he went to sit up but Rhys had his hands around his neck now, preventing him from going anywhere.

“As much as I’m loving watching this, can we move it to the goddamn bedroom?” Desperation laced through Jack’s words and his last few actually came out borderline whiny. This had Rhys and Tim biting back peals of laughter and rolling off of one another to confront a very neglected-looking Handsome Jack. He stood there, now fully nude, with his arms folded across his chest. “Well?”

Rhys and Tim shared a look before rounding the couch and both sliding their arms around him, one going for his face and hair and the other for his waist and half-hard length. Tim held him firmly, beginning to rub him to hardness. He kissed along his shoulder and along to his collarbone.

“Aw, is Jack feeling left out?” he snickered, catching Rhys’ eye; an eye that was filled with mischief.

“Yeah baby," Rhys muttered. "We’re _sorry_. We’ll go to the bedroom.”

Tim was moving faster now and he felt Jack’s knees give out slightly. The Hyperion man hunched forward a little, having to now brace himself with his hand on the back of the couch. Rhys was licking a line up his neck, nibbling his earlobe and then turning his head with a finger so that they were looking at one another.

“You wanna move this elsewhere any time soon, _pumpkin_ ?” Rhys purred the final word slow and that was apparently it for Jack. A hand came up and buried itself in Tim’s hair and Jack _moaned_. Rhys grinned. "I think I hear the bedroom calling."

“Guh, hmm, _shit_. Fuck the bedroom," Jack managed before a gasp escaped him as Rhys' hand joined Tim's at his crotch. He took Jack's balls and massaged them in time with Tim's own movements and Jack was putty in their hands. His eyes were half-closed and his mouth hung agape, body jolting with every movement his doppleganger and his adversary made. Soon, itt was as though a rope was lassoed around Tim's knees and he felt as though he was yanked to the floor to take Jack's solid heat into his mouth. Jack made a sound above him like he was holding back a whimper and that only spurred Tim on, using his mouth in the way he knew would have Jack unable to hold back any kind of whimper. And, as predicted, Jack cried out an unholy amount in the following few minutes, both of his hands tugging on their hair of his doting partners. When he finally came and spurts of heat filled Tim's mouth, he sank to his knees and kissed Tim hard messily, barely giving him time to swallow.

"If you're not laying on that bed" Jack growled, "and prepping that sweet little hole for us in the next thirty seconds, I'm gonna start breaking things." His eyes flew open, hand squeezing Tim's neck. "Like _bones._ And pretty freckled _faces_."

Despite knowing that Jack would do nothing of the sort to him, the level of threat in his tone had Tim scrambling to his feet and losing his underwear. Rhys wasted no time in grabbing him by the hand and pulling them across the apartment with Jack on their tail, panting and glaring daggers into the backs of their heads.

 

Rhys tossed Tim onto the large bed, all hints of sweetness dissipated. His expression had returned to one of acute hunger and his cock had returned to fully erect. It seemed there was only one thing that would satiate him.

 

_Tim._

 

Tim crawled backwards up the bed to the pillows as Rhys followed him, taking it upon himself to snatch the lube from the side table as he went and squirt it all over his fingers, licking his lips as he did so. Tim, rock hard as a damn flagpole, could have come just from the sight of Rhys resting between his legs, watching the lube drip from the bottle and travel down to his wrist. Jack took up the space beside him on the bed and took his face with one hand to kiss him as Rhys sank a finger into him, sending a sudden bolt of electricity right through his body. He whined, not holding back like Jack had, and pushed back against both Rhys’ hand and Jack’s mouth. Rhys slipped in another finger, spreading him open gradually.

“My god, you look beautiful,” Rhys breathed, holding onto Tim’s knee for purchase.

“Don’t go gettin’ so sweet on him that you forget about me, Rhysie.” Jack paused their kiss to watch Rhys in action. “Don’t think I could get through my week without you, babe.”

Through the haziness that having his asshole prepped brought on, a realisation popped into Tim’s head.

“Your imperative weekly Pandoran visits,” he went to grunt but instead gasped because Rhys curled his fingers around and hit that sweet, sweet spot inside of him. Noticing what he’d found, Rhys smirked and made an effort to locate it again. Which he did.

“Oh yeah,” Jack murmured, tracing a finger down Tim’s body to his cock that was crying out to be touched. Tim began to almost convulse with pleasure. “Those were uh...yeah...perhaps more for me than they were for Hyperion.”

Tim should have been pissed off but when Jack grasped him and worked his dick as Rhys worked his ass, tears sprang up to the corners of his eyes.

“ _Fucking hell_ ,” he managed to say, small and breathless. Rhys laughed.

“Probably more like fucking _heaven_. Jack, throw me a -”

“Already got you babe.” He tossed Rhys a condom and the cybernetic man tore into it and slipped it on with ease...like he’d been doing it every week - at least once a week - for the past god-knows how long with Jack. But Tim didn’t get to think any more about that as Rhys lined himself up, hands on Tim’s sides, and pushed himself in inch by inch. Tim sucked in a breath.

“That’s it, kitten. Take him in all the way.” Jack was lazily wanking him off now, too busy ogling at what was happening with Rhys. Jack began palming at himself as he watched Rhys pull out to a point and then drive himself back in and making Tim almost _yell_ with pleasure. Rhys didn’t hold back then; he hoisted Tim’s legs over his shoulders and piledrived him into the mattress as Jack kept up his own actions.

“Oh - my - god,” Tim cried, body quaking almost uncontrollably by this point. Jack kissed him again, shutting him up, and sped up his rubbing of his cock. Tim moved his head away from Jack’s lips. “Fuck! Guys! I’m gonna fucking come --”

Rhys stopped suddenly and grabbed Tim by the jaw with his metal hand. It hurt.

“You’re going to do nothing of the sort, Timothy,” he snapped, thrusting in slow. “You’re gonna force yourself to take it as long as you can. Understand?”

A wave of lust washed over Tim as he kept Rhys’ gaze. When he nodded, Rhys pulled out slow and got faster and faster until Tim couldn’t breathe.

“Rhys! I’m...I can’t? I can’t!”

“Yes, you can!” Rhys hissed, but it was pretty obvious that he too was coming close to the edge. “Don’t you - oh _shit_ \- don’t you _dare_ goddamn - come -- yet.” Breaths haggard and body shuddering, Rhys slammed into him a final few times and both men came simultaneously, Rhys into Tim and Tim all over Jack’s hand.

Tim could have wept with how good he was feeling. It was as though he was floating in a cloud.

“That...really was...a special occasion,” he murmured, drawing huffed laughter out of Jack and Rhys. All three men flopped onto their backs across the bed, staring up at the ceiling and breathing heavily.

“You can say that again,” Jack replied, beaming.

Rhys leant up on his elbows, swallowing. “I’d like to think that this’ll happen often enough to not be a uniquely wonderful event.”

A silence passed as Jack and Tim also propped themselves up.

“...I mean...I wouldn’t say no.” Jack patted Rhys’ leg and then they both looked to Tim who blushed, making Jack smile.

“I’m not opposed to that at all.”

“Well,” Rhys began, sliding off of the bed slowly and stretching. “We should get back to the party so we don’t raise too much suspicion.”

Jack also stood, wiping his hand on a pillow. He nodded and placed his hands behind his head, cracking the bones in his spine.

“The idea of surrounding myself with idiots who have no idea what just took place sounds _freakin’ sweet.”_ Jack slid his gaze to Tim. “You comin’, pretty boy?”

“I’m...still recovering…” Tim replied weakly.

 

When he finally emerged from the bedroom, attempting to walk off the brilliant fuck he’d just experienced, he found Rhys fully-dressed and Jack halfway through buttoning up his shirt. They both looked up and beamed at him when they noticed his arrival. Wordlessly, the two men brought over his clothes and dressed him as he stood there still shivering from his orgasm. As Rhys did up Tim’s belt, he pressed a kiss to his cheek and locked it into place. Jack brushed off the shoulders of his blazer and pulled him from Rhys’ grasp, turning him around and fixing his hair. When they both stepped back to admire him, Tim bit his lip and span on the spot, showing off his look. Jack whistled. Rhys folded his arms and smiled.

“I’m damn good at choosing suits, if I do say so myself,” he remarked. Tim’s eyebrows shot up so high they almost hit the ceiling.

“...Y...You chose this?” He pulled at his lapels.

Rhys nodded and stepped forward, placing his hands on Tim’s chest. He leant in, licking at the shell of the doppelganger's ear.

“Oh yes. And you look downright _delicious._ ” Rhys patted his chest. “But don’t worry.” Their eyes met and Rhys' face turned sultry, mysterious and...enigmatic. The Atlas CEO was now standing before him, straightening his waistcoat - that damned waistcoat - and  _smirking._ He turned on his heel and made his way to the door but stopped halfway and glanced back. When he opened his mouth to speak, his voice had lowered and a new, challenging tone curled into his words. 

“I'm sure you can find a way to thank me later.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are needed after this. I can't face a world where people read this and never say anything because I ALREADY JUDGE MYSELF
> 
> GIVE ME VALIDATION, YOU RHACK SINNERS
> 
> *begins to dig grave*


End file.
